You Know You Love Me
by queenkiz
Summary: A new twist on the modern Pride and Prejudice. This time, Will and Lizzie are set in the extravagant background of New York's Upper East Side. Crossover with Gossip Girl.
1. Chapter 1

_Hey, Upper East Siders._

_Gossip Girl here, and have I got some news for you. Word has it that the _**Netherfield**_ penthouse has been let at last. You know it, that fabulous loft in Manhattan? The one we all partied our adorable butts off at last New Years? Hopefully you weren't too trashed to recall what happened the next morning. _

_And the fact that the penthouse has finally been let is not even the best news. It's who is letting it. Girls, break out those fabulous thigh-high Chanel boots and your shortest miniskirts. We have a very, very eligible bachelor on our hands, the name of none other than_** Charles Bingley**_._

_Yes, _that _Bingley. _

_Apparently, he's only 20 and one of the richest men in the world. Like,_** Bill Gate**_s rich. No, _**Bing**_ is probably richer than Bill Gates. And it's all thanks to his creation of _**PP **_networking. You know the site. It began in our sister country of the UK and spread all the way to the States. It's better than _**Facebook**_ and _**Myspace**_ combined. After he sold it, _**Bing**_ made bank. And how could he not with such a suggestive name for a networking site. I mean, _**PP**_? Come on. It's suggestively fabulous._

_And _**Bing**_ isn't coming alone, I hear. He may be one of the richest eligible bachelors in the world, but as awesome as _**Bing**_ is, he is absolutely nothing compared to his bud_** W**_. Word has it that _**W**_ is at least twice as rich as _**Bing**_. Basically, he's got a totally absurd amount of dough. I'm sure he's not one to say no to a bottle of _**Cristal**_ just for laughs and giggles. And how did _**W**_ get so insanely wealthy? Well, he took over his father's law firm at the age of 21. Apparently, the _**Darcy**_ law firm has been around since practically the Middle Ages. So not only is _**W**_ absurdly rich, he's also old money. Now that's a young business buff for you. _

_Have I mentioned that they are both totally gorgeous?_

_Watch out, New York City. It's raining hot bachelors. I'm not even bringing out my adorable new _**Coach**_ umbrella. _

_xoxo,_

_Gossip Girl_

***

It was a gorgeous New York City day in August. Dandelion tufts of clouds floated in the blue glass bowl of the sky stretching over the busiest city in the world. Even if it hadn't been lovely outside, Fifth Avenue, perhaps one of the most famous streets of the city, would have still sparkled, a diamond amid a pile of dull gray rocks. Prada, Gucci, Salvatore Ferrgamo were all beacons as storefronts along the golden street. Christian Louboutin pumps, Fendi bags, floaty Jovovich-Hawk dresses gleamed on the sidewalks, adorning the feet, arms, and pencil-thin bodies of celebrities, socialites, and the infinitely wealthy. Bendel's, Macy's, Saks were heavens of clothing, shoes, bags, jewelry. The mere beauty of an August, summer day could scarcely compete with the splendor that was Fifth Avenue.

Splendor, that was marred only slightly by Francine "Frannie" Eleanor Bennet's inhuman screech rang out from outside the door of Sak's Fifth Avenue as she peeked into the display windows.

"JANIE! Look at this _dress_. It's absolutely _perfect_ for you, dear!"

Enter one Jane Francine Bennet, favorite and eldest of all the five Bennet daughters. Beautiful, kind, and unassuming, Jane had the classic taste of Audrey Hepburn and Marilyn Monroe, and the Marc Jacobs atrocity glaring at her from the window was hardly something she would wear. Givenchy and Chanel were more suited to her taste, though Marc Jacobs had his own sort of flair. She surveyed it, though, with the grace of a queen, her lovely mind ever open to new ideas, and with mild interest, and murmured,

"Oh, that's lovely, Mom." And to Jane's infinite credit, there wasn't even a touch of sarcasm in her voice.

"Get in there and try it on, Jane dear," Frannie bossed, fluffing her bob in the window's reflection, probably studying the new honey blond lowlights she had gotten. She'd read in _Cosmopolitan_ that honey blond made one look younger. Did the make her cheeks look rounder? Should she have gone with more blond to accentuate her bright blue eyes? It was hard to tell. As she studied her reflection, Jane quietly obliged, always gentle and noncontroversial, sliding through the department store doors gracefully.

"What about _me,_ Mom!? I need a dress too, you know! Just as much as Janie!"

"Yeah, Mom. I do too!"

"Everyone is getting a dress, Lydia," Frannie sighed, herding her two youngest daughters, the twins, through the department store doors. Lydia Cornelia Bennet and Katherine "Kitty" Marie Bennet were similar in so many ways. Both girls were light-hearted to the point of foolishness, superficial, vain, gossipy, and utterly boy-crazy. Lydia was, in fact, well known as the biggest flirt of the Upper East Side. Her adventures with Chuck Bass at the Riley wedding was only too well known, to the embarrassment of her family. They forcefully ignored the whole situation. At the moment, she was mucking around with at least two boys, one more handsome than the next. She simply could not keep her hands off them. And why should she? Every girl deserves a hot boy as her toy. For a vivacious fifteen year old, Lydia was quickly earning the title of "slut" which was not something she was very embarrassed about.

As Robin is to Batman, and Jennie Humphrey was to Blair Waldorf, at least before everyone found out her dirty little secret, Kitty was to Lydia. Kitty was Lydia's sidekick in all they did, and was only too happy to follow her more outgoing sister around. She lacked Lydia's skill in flirting and charming, and was somewhat awkward. But we shall give the poor girl an A for effort, possibly the only one she has ever earned. What she lacked in the departments of wit and persona, Kitty made up for in desperation, determined to be as successful with the boys of the Upper East side as her twin sister.

With a whoosh, Frannie, Lydia, and Kitty vanished into the store, cooing like the pigeons crapping on the roofs above them, leaving the two other Bennet women behind on the sidewalk. Mary Eleanor Bennet, self-declared revolutionist, vegan, angry girl punk rock fan, and animal rights activist shouldered her hemp bag, cast a dark look at the department store, and muttered, "I'll wait out here." Mary was the rebel of the Bennet brood. She was rarely seen with a smile on her face, preferring a degrading scowl, though she would have been quite attractive if she had put the effort into curving the corners of her mouth upward once in awhile. Mary found herself a bench to perch on outside the store, plugged her ear buds securely into her ears, and pushed play on her ipod. She picked at the diamond piercing in her lips, and extracted a book of poetry from her bag, flicking to a middle page, and settling down to read. Such a tormented soul. Life on Fifth Avenue is tough, but someone's got to do it. That, of course, didn't mean that Mary wasn't allowed to bitch the whole time.

"I already got a dress," she added, slightly louder than was necessary, and we can thank Peaches blaring in her ear about penises for that, waving her sister, Elizabeth "Lizzie" Danielle Bennet away with a charming scowl.

"Alright then, see you later, Mare," came the reply from Lizzie, and then she, too passed through the doors. Lizzie was, perhaps, the real black sheep of the Bennet women, even more so than Mary. Out of all of them, Lizzie was the most realistic. She wasn't caught up in the fairy tale life that they lived, instead keeping herself grounded as a journalism major at Columbia University there in New York City. Journalism was real to Lizzie, unlike anything she had encountered in her world where being fake, backstabbing, and lying seemed to be the vogue thing to do. Her sharp wit, sarcastic nature, and intellect, not to mention her "unusual," as Frannie would put it, fashion sense, proved excellent for a journalism career, and allowed her the fortune and misfortune of being quick to make both friends and enemies.

Lizzie found her mother and sisters in the dress department of Saks. Lydia was rifling through the a rack of barely there dresses, mere squares of fabric, plucking out whichever she found suitable and handing them to Kitty to hold. Kitty was already struggling with perhaps twenty dresses, her bony arms threatening to break under the weight of chiffon, satin, lace, and organza. Frannie was seated in a luxurious armchair before the dressing room like the duchess she wished she was.

The whole shopping trip was for the Lucas benefit dinner gathering that night. A yearly affair, the Lucas dinner was always looked forward to. This year, the benefit was for HIV and AIDS, and Lizzie felt that it was refreshing that people were actually trying to help others for once. The theme was naturally red, so the goal was to find exquisite apparel that meshed with the theme.

"Come out, Jane dear," she called, applying her pink Chanel lipstick and smacking her lips together, a tiny pocket mirror fixed in front of her face. Lizzie surveyed the scene warily. Shopping trips often ended up badly for the Bennets, with Lydia or Kitty or Frannie throwing a bitch fit. Usually, it was all three. She peeked through a rack of cocktail dresses, and plucked one of the rack. As the dressing room curtains whirled open, Lizzie moved to her mother's side, clutching the dress in her hands. Out came Jane, wearing the Marc Jacobs dress that had been in the window display. The origami folds were certainly interesting, but altogether absurd. Of course, Jane still looked exquisitely lovely, though Lizzie believed she could do better. Actually, anyone could have done better. Let's be honest. The Marc Jacobs dress was horrible. There was an appalling silence as everyone stared at the atrocity that made even Jane Bennet look like she was from Brooklyn.

"Jane," Lizzie called, holding out the dress she had found on the rack. "Try this one."

"What on earth is wrong with the one she has on?" Frannie snapped, shooting a smoldering glare in Lizzie's direction as Jane took the dress. Clearly, Frannie was unwilling to be wrong, though she clearly was. Choosing not to answer, Lizzie moved towards the clothing racks again, this time searching for something herself. If her mother had any taste at all, she would have realized that everything was wrong with the dress.

Behind her, Frannie had started a rant. "That Marc Jacobs is _perfect_. It's eye-catching! You girls have got to get married someday, and how do you expect to find a man without something interesting on? I mean, take, for example, Lindsay Lohan. Everyone notices her. She has such interesting personal style"

"That's because she's absurd," interjected Lizzie, studying the folds of a Diane von Furstenberg dress. "And because she's in and out of rehab every other week."

Frannie went on, ignoring her second oldest child. "That's how I caught your father's eye, in my multicolored Chanel. I just want you to be happy. And to get _noticed_! There are going to be many important people at the dinner tonight! I want you to catch their attention!" She wrung her hands in her lap, then reapplied her lipstick once more, perhaps a nervous habit. She smudged it outside her lip line, making her altogether garish.

Lizzie rolled her eyes, hidden behind a rack of yellow dresses. There is a difference between getting noticed for something good, and getting noticed because you look frightful. Obviously, this fact of life had escaped her mother.

Once more, Jane emerged from the dressing room, now dressed in a cherry red, high necked, knee length wonder by David Meister. The back was high as well, and the waist was garnished by an adorable bow. She looked simply stunning in the classic silhouette. Lizzie smiled appreciatively at both her sister and her own stellar taste in clothes, one of the only things she believed that she was very prideful about. Prejudice, however, was an entirely different thing.

"Oh, _Jane_!" gushed their mother, leaping from the seat, and fluttering around Jane like an annoying fly. "You look _gorgeous_. Much, much, _much_ better than that Marc Jacobs. Oh, darling!"

"Thanks, Mom," Jane replied, graciously, purposely avoiding catching Lizzie's eye. Both were sure to erupt in laughter at their mother's antics, should they share such a look. "I think it will go wonderfully with my white Manolo Blahnik pumps, don't you?"

"Of course, dear. You'd look simply ravishing in anything," Frannie raved, smiling fondly at Jane. "Help Lizzie find a dress, Jane dear. Katherine, Lydia, let's see what you've found, girls."

Still wearing her lovely dress, Jane stepped towards Lizzie, while Kitty and Lydia moved into the dressing rooms, carrying what seemed like half the store in their spindly arms.

Browsing the racks mindlessly, Lizzie muttered, "I don't know how you stand it," to her sister.

"Oh, Lizzie," Jane huffed. "She's not that bad."

Lizzie met her sister's eyes skeptically, perking up a quizzical eyebrow, and the two girls were forced to duck down behind the rack to hide in attempt to muffle their laughter.

When they had finally straightened up, Lizzie yanked a BCBG Max Azria black mini dress from the rack. "Not that bad? Please, Jane."

"You're too judgmental, that's all," Jane admonished, regaining her composure. "That dress is very you," she then observed, studying Lizzie's pick. "You do realize, though, that Mom will hate it?"

"All the more reason to get it," Lizzie said with a mischievous smirk, flouncing off towards the dressing room, dress in hand. As Jane predicted, Frannie loathed Lizzie's pick. That, however was the least of her worries. Lydia and Kitty had decided that they had to have the shortest minis known to mankind. As in, fabric covered where it counted, and left everything else bare. Considering the fact that the dinner was really a party type of atmosphere, Frannie really could not object to her girls' choices.

"Mom, I need shoes too," demanded Lydia, examining her extremely fitted Elizabeth and James corset-like dress. "I'm thinking those black, t-strap Prada ones. You know, the ones I was telling you about the other day?"

"If Lydia gets new shoes, then I do too!" piped up Kitty. "I really want a pair of those leopard print Jimmy Choo's!"

"Kitty!" ejaculated Lydia scathingly. "Leopard print is soooo tacky!"

Having lived with her adorably obnoxious family for quite too long, Lizzie quickly stated, "Well, since Jane and I are done, I think we'll head out." She paused, trying to feel out any tremors that would lead to a full-blown Fran-tastic explosion. "You don't mind, right?"

"No, no, of course not dear. Here, take this credit card and pay for those dresses." Frannie glanced sharply at Lizzie. "I do wish that you would change your mind about that dress, Lizzie dear."

"Don't worry about it, Mom. I'll make it fabulous," Lizzie assured, swiping the plastic from her mother's hand. "We'll see you at home. Good luck!" she added with a knowing wink.

Soon, Jane and Lizzie were back out in the sunshine, back to blinking in the splendor of Fifth Avenue. Lizzie felt that they had been lucky with the shopping trip. At least it had not ended in tears, while they were there, anyway.

"Come on, Mare!" Lizzie shouted at her sister, and the three of them began to head back to their Fifth Avenue penthouse.

They had a party to get ready for.

****

_Hey people!_

_I know you're all probably getting dolled up for the Lucas party this evening. I know I am. My _**Diane von Furstenberg**_ dress is just so awesome. Try not to be jealous, ok? I just wanted to let you know that you might want to exfoliate a little extra with your _**Fresh **_body scrub or apply a little more of your _**Burberry Brit**_ fragrance to your décolletage. Want to know why? Of course you do. And how well you know me. You know I can't keep a secret to save my life. _

_I've heard from a very reliable source that our _**Bing**_ is making an appearance at the Lucas party. Apparently, _**Bing**_ is bringing his delightful sister, _**Ca**_, along with. You'll recognize her when you see her. She walked in the _**Eleanor Waldorf**_ fashion show last year during spring _**Fashion Week**_. Word has it she has her eyes on her brother's sexy best friend, but I say let's give her a run for her money, girls._

_xoxo,_

_Gossip Girl_

***

"Lydia, hurry up! The limo is leaving in, like, five minutes!"

"I'll be there in a second! GOD!"

In the foyer of the Bennet penthouse, Lizzie checked her cell phone for the time, then heaved a sigh. It would be a miracle if the Bennet brood was ever on time for anything. And this was not simply being fashionably late. This was late late, and breaching on rudeness and humiliation. Absently, she picked at her red studded cuff bracelet. She had, indeed, spiced up her little black dress. Cherry red tights made her thin, muscular legs glow in the dimly lit foyer. Studded Burberry ankle boots graced her feet, and she gripped a cream clutch. Beside her, on the couch, Jane was stunning in her bright red dress as she texted on her phone. White Manolo Blahniks gleamed from her feet, and a charming cherry brooch was pinned to the dress. Her blond locks were garnished with a black patent leather headband.

Can you say fabulous?

Eventually, Lydia made her appearance in her minuscule mini, accentuated with dark red snake print, peep toe Mary Janes. Kitty was behind, her new Jimmy Choo's wild on her feet. Mary had on a black and white geometric print shift, cinched with a skinny red belt.

And at long last, the Bennet brood made their extremely tardy way down the elevator and to the stretch limo waiting out on the curb for them. In the limo, Mr. Noah Aldan Bennet and Frannie were arguing about whether or not the living room decor needed to be redone. Frannie insisted that the rich upholstery was from two seasons ago, and therefore completely unacceptable. Noah maintained that buying new furniture was quite unnecessary. Lydia and Kitty were sneaking alcohol from the mini refrigerator within, Mary was listening to the White Stripes, her ipod blaring, Jane was texting someone, her fingers moving rapidly across the keys, and Lizzie was tuning it all out, staring out the limo window at the city beyond. It was beautiful-ugly outside, one of the miracles of human kind. The beauty of the lights shone down on glamour, drugs, and garbage.

Soon, the limo pulled up to the curb of the club the benefit party was being held at. The Bennets rolled out of the limo, Frannie and Noah arm in arm, Jane behind them, followed closely by Lizzie, then an annoyed-looking Mary, who had been forced to abandon her ipod by her mother, and finally, last but not least, the youngest Bennets, already tipsy from the wine coolers that they had snuck fro the mini fridge in the limo. The seven Bennets walked the carpet leading into the club and through the door.

Immediately, Lydia and Kitty set off, abandoning their family for the supposedly pleasanter company of their fellow freshman. Frannie and Noah found some of their own friends – the Waldorf-Roses, the Basses, and the Archibalds -leaving the rest of their offspring to their own devices. It didn't take long for entertainment to find them.

"Lizzie!!" It was Charlotte Lucas, daughter of Sir William Lucas, who was hosting the charity even that evening. Lizzie also counted Charlotte as one of her closest friends. Ah, finally, a bright spot of the evening. Well, ok. That was a bit untrue. But after spending even thirty minutes stuck in the limo with her absurdly adorable family, Lizzie was feeling slightly pessimistic. Charlotte had the spectacular talent of putting a smile on her face, which was exactly what was happening at this very moment.

"Charlotte!" The two girls embraced, then broke apart to examine one another's outfits. Lizzie smiled broadly. "You look awesome." Her friend beamed back at her.

"Right back at you," said Charlotte, deftly linking her arm through Lizzie's. "Let's see who's here." Over in the corner was Blair Waldorf with what looked like a gin and tonic cradled in her hand as she held court with her school friends. Waldorf BFF and life of the party, Serena van der Woodsen was laughing loudly at the bar, no doubt working her charm as she usually did. Nate Archibald, one of the hottest guys on the Upper East Side, was smoking a joint with his slimy friend, Chuck Bass, blowing the smoke into the rafters of the club. Ah, society parties. Could it get any better?

"So when is the famed Charlie Bingley getting here?" Lizzie found herself asking Charlotte. Though she wasn't one for gossip, Lizzie was still faintly interested in the mystery surrounding the new most eligible bachelors of the Upper East Side. And who wasn't? The room was buzzing with talk of the arrival of Charles "Bing" Bingely and Will Darcy. Apparently, everyone had kept up to date on . Nearly every eye was casually trained on the door for the arrival of the stars of the evening, though everyone was trying to pretend not to be _too_ interested.

Charlotte glanced at her Rolex, remarking, "Should be soon. I mean, you guys were already insanely late." Charlotte grinned at Lizzie. "Surely they can't be much farther behind you."

Lizzie elbowed her friend playfully in the side. "Hey. Don't blame that on me." Suddenly, the room was loud with whispers. The poppy music the DJ had been playing died away. A high-pitched giggle rang out. Lydia, of course. True, all of the people at the party may have been socialites and semi-celebrities, but at the arrival of Charlie Bingley and Will Darcy was still something that made them all turn their heads to admire.

There were three people that had just entered the room, the three people everyone was dying to see. There were two extremely attractive young men. The one on the left had a nice, pleasant smile, accentuated by the brightness in his adorable green eyes. A mop of strawberry blond hair curled into his eyes, a hair color only a man of his hotness could pull off. Rising a few inches about him was the other man, who was, if possible, even more gorgeous. He had a highbred, aristocratic look about him. His nose was perfectly straight. His eyes were deep and expressive. His hair had a shaggy, yet elegant look to it. And his lips were utterly kissable, although they didn't curve upwards as his friend's. Both men were dressed in tasteful tuxedos. Beside him was a model-thin woman in a silver Herve Ledger bandage dress, accentuated with firecracker red pumps. Her lips were painted a shocking red as well, clashing slightly with her lovely red coif.

In a word, they were utterly fabulous.

"Which one is Charlie?" Lizzie whispered to Charlotte, shielding her mouth with her hand as she leaned into her friend.

"The one on the left," Charlotte hissed back, pleased to know something that Lizzie Bennet did not. "And that's his sister," she added, showing off her knowledge even more.

"Who's the one in the middle?" Lizzie asked. "And what the hell is he so pissed off about?"

Charlotte shook her head, a smile betraying her desire to laugh. "That's his friend, Will Darcy."

"God, he looks like his dog just died," Lizzie continued, wrinkling her forehead at Will Darcy. He looked completely boring. Most likely thought he was better than the rest of them. Lizzie ripped her eyes from Will Darcy, only to find that everyone else's eyes were still trained on the threesome. Oh, good God. Roughly, Lizzie grabbed Charlotte by the elbow, and dragged her over to the DJ.

"Hey!" Charlotte protested.

"I'd like to put in a request," Lizzie said sweetly, forcing the DJ out of his stupor. He smiled at her.

"And what is that, pretty girl?"

Lizzie rolled her eyes, but maintained her cool. "Um…how about, "Pokerface" by Lady Gaga?"

"Coming right up." A moment later, the track was playing, bringing everyone else at the party back to life. People began dancing. Take Blair Waldorf and Chuck Bass for example, who were grinding on one corner of the dance floor. Drinks were flowing, laughter and chatter rang out. Now that the guests of honor were here, the party had really begun.

Lizzie and Charlotte had found Jane and were talking to a few friends from high school, cosmopolitans dangling from their loose grips. Unfortunately, Frannie, who had clearly had quite a bit to drink already, interrupted the rather pleasant conversation.

"Lizzie!" accosted Frannie, slurring slightly. "Jane! Come and meet Charlie Bingley."

Ever the obedient child, Jane polished off the rest of her drink, lightly setting her martini glass down on the bar. Beside Lizzie, Charlotte was said, "Oh, come on, Liz."

Lizzie felt she had no choice but to obey as well to avoid a public bitch fit by Frannie. Consequently, she downed the rest of her own drink, slamming the glass down on the bar.

"Alright, let's go."

Frannie led the three girls over to where Noah and Sir Lucas were already conversing with Charlie Bingley, Will Darcy, and Caroline Bingley. Charlie looked every bit as pleasant as his earlier smile had been. He looked thoroughly interested in whatever Sir Lucas was speaking about. As for his sister, Caroline, she looked utterly bored out of her brain, though as she was a model, perhaps that wasn't saying much.

And then there was Will Darcy. He was utterly stony-faced and silent, staring down as his Prada dress shoes. He was such a mystery. Lizzie found herself narrowing her eyes at him. What the hell was his problem, anyway? If he didn't want to be there, then why on earth was he?

"Ah, here they are," Noah was saying, opening his arm to his wife, two daughters, and Charlotte Lucas. "My wife, Frannie." Said wife tittered in a silly way, extending her hand to Charlie. He shook it good-naturedly In turn, Frannie also shook hands with Caroline and Will Darcy, who broke his death stare at his shoes only long enough to do so. "My eldest daughter, Jane," Noah further introduced. "And my second eldest, Lizzie." Lizzie was soon going through the handshaking routine that her mother and sister had just gone through.

Charlie Bingley had a wonderful handshake. Lizzie found she couldn't help but decide that she liked him already, despite only just meeting him. Her own smile grew thanks to his. Caroline offered her a small, uppity smile. Will Darcy scarcely met her eyes with his own, though his handshake spoke of power and influence. He had quite a strong grip.

Lizzie brought herself back to the present. "So, what's brought you to New York?" Sir Lucas was asking Charlie.

"Well, business, mostly," Charlie replied, grinning. "And I'm supposed to help host TRL tomorrow," he joked, every word he spoke electrified by his sexy British accent. Shaking his strawberry curls, he added, "No, I've always wanted to live in New York." He shot a glance at Jane. "The sights of the city are truly something to behold."

Well, someone was a bit of a smooth operator, now wasn't he? Blame it on the English charm. It's utterly irresistible.

"Well, I've heard that the library at Netherfield is a sight to behold," Lizzie stated.

Charlie nodded, a bit vaguely. "It is amazing," he admitted, "but unfortunately I'm not much of a reader." He paused, as though examining his words. "I just find that there is so much else that occupies my time."

"Oh, I'm the same way," Jane seconded, lightly touching his arm. "There's just always so else much to do."

A minute later, Jane and Charlie were on the dance floor together, dancing to "Love in this Club" by Usher. How very appropriate. Obviously sparks were flying and so were the rumors.

"I heard she met him on vacation last summer. And he came after here, all the way to New York," Kati Farkas was telling Isabel Coates in between sips of Ketel One and soda.

"Oh yeah? Well I heard she's carrying his baby, and she made him come back with her," Isabel said smugly.

"Have you seen how skinny she is? There is no way she's pregnant," Kati shot back with an eye roll.

Only on the Upper East Side could such a sweet moment be mutated like so.

Now left with only Will Darcy and Caroline Bingley, as Charlotte was now dancing with a cute guy and her parents had wandered off to find more booze alone, Lizzie was feeling slightly awkward and rather abandoned. She decided that her best option was to forward the conversation. It wasn't as though she, too, could just wander off. She had a sense of propriety, after all. And considering that her so-called best friend and older sister had abandoned her and no one was asking her to dance, Lizzie had no choice. She bravely turned to Will Darcy.

"So…Will, do you dance?"

He was at long last forced into looking at her. His gaze had been wandering the party, thoroughly blank.

"Not if I can help it," Darcy stated, some of the first words Lizzie had heard him speak during the whole evening.

Well, that was seriously a conversation stopper. Seriously, Lizzie wasn't going to hang around if she wasn't wanted. Good Lord, did these rich bastards have any social skills whatsoever?

"Will you excuse me?" Lizzie inquired, quickly escaping the situation. Ok, maybe she had been a little harsh. Charlie had plenty of good social skills. He was nice, charming. Perhaps he ought to teach his friend some manners.

Apparently Charlotte's dance partner hadn't been that good because she was fleeing the dance floor. Spotting Lizzie, Charlotte headed straight for her, took Lizzie's arm roughly. "God, that guy was awful. I need a smoke. Will you come outside with me?"

"Anything to get out of here," Lizzie said. The two girls escaped to the warm night outside, Charlotte digging out her pack of Marlboro Lights as they did. Charlotte flicked out her lighter and deftly lit her cigarette, inhaling and blowing smoke into the air. Lizzie breathed in the fresh air, tainted only slightly by Charlotte's cigarette smoke.

"I have never beheld such a beautiful creature in my life."

Both Lizzie and Charlotte looked at one another. It was Charlie. Both of them huddled into the nearest dark corner, Charlotte shielding the red burn of her cigarette with her hand.

"You were dancing with the only decent looking girl here." Darcy.

"Oh, come on. Her sister, Lizzie, is perfectly good-looking."

"She's alright, I suppose. At any rate, she isn't pretty enough for me."

In the dark, Lizzie and Charlotte exchanged glances.

"You might as well go back inside to that girl," Darcy had continued, a slight chill in his voice. "You're wasting your time with me."

"Oh, come on, grumpy knickers. Inside with you. I'm going to find you a swell dancing partner.

"Oh, Lizzie," breathed Charlotte, when she was sure they were gone. Lizzie broke away from the shadows, shrugging her shoulders. "Just think," Charlotte continued. "If he liked you, you'd actually have to talk with him." Like always, Charlotte managed to put a smile on her face.

"Exactly," Lizzie replied. "Shall we go in and make our own fun?"

"I think we shall," Charlotte agreed, stubbing out her cigarette against the concrete sidewalk.

And they did. Charlie managed to tear himself away from Jane long enough to have a dance with Charlotte. And as for Lizzie, she danced with everyone on the floor, not the type to withhold dancing because of someone's looks. Chuck Bass, however, was an exception. She wasn't exactly in the mood to get groped tonight. After shaking their asses to quite a few songs, everyone seemed to reconvene by the drinks table. Charlotte went off for another smoke, leaving Lizzie with Charlie and Jane. Somehow, Will Darcy had joined their party, sending prickles of dislike squirming up Lizzie's spine.

The four of them, or rather, the three of them (Will wasn't speaking much) were having quite a pleasant conversation until Frannie stumbled up to the group. Clearly, she had a bit too much to drink. And who could blame her with an open bar? "Oh, Mr. Bingley," Frannie slurred, hooking her arm through Jane's in a chummy sort of way. "I do hope you are enjoying New York so far."

"Indeed, I am," Charlie said, looking slightly amused. "I've never seen so many pretty girls in my life," he continued to boast, a small smile on his lips. His eyes flicked towards Jane, barely noticeable.

"I suppose you mean my Jane," Frannie said loudly. "She is lovely, isn't she?"

"Mom," Lizzie warned, rolling her eyes. Dear God. Did her mother have any sense of propriety? Charlie continued to look amused.

"In fact," Frannie was going on, "When she was about fifteen, she had a boyfriend so much in love with her that, I swear to God, I thought they were going to end up together." Frannie gave a slightly drunken giggle. "I mean, he used to write her poetry, for Christ's sake."

Lizzie felt that she owed it to her sister to interrupt their mother. "And that's what ended it!" she stated, eyes flashing in amusement. "I wonder who first discovered that poetry could kill a flourishing romance stone dead." Take Daniel Humphrey, for example. Back when he had dated Serena van der Woodsen for about a millisecond, he had written her poetry. And look where it had gotten him.

'I thought that poetry fed love." Will Darcy had spoken his second sentence of the evening. Cue applause. Lizzie felt her eyebrows rise in amusement.

"Maybe for a steady relationship," she mused. "But if it's still young, I'm convinced that a single sonnet will ruin it."

"Then what would you do to encourage romance at those early stages?" Will asked.

Lizzie couldn't resist a jab at him. "Dancing." She paused, then, eyes sparkling with mischief, she added, "Even if one's partner doesn't meet your standards of beauty."

If Will Darcy was embarrassed that she was calling him out on his bad manners, he didn't show it. Lizzie excused herself, making her way outside to find Charlotte.

"Let's get out of here."

***

_Hey people!_

_So how about the Lucas party? I know I had fun, but word has it that _**W**_ really insulted our girl_** L**_. Doesn't he know that we're the only ones who can insult one of our own? Silly _**W**_. Let's hope he's a quick learner. Here in the Upper East Side, everyone knows everything about everyone. Did he really think that his dissing _**L**_ would go unnoticed? Rule number one, _**W**_: never talk crap about people when there's even the slightest possibility that someone might overhear. Especially when you're talking crap about the way someone looks. And especially when you are talking crap about how a girl looks. Well, I got your back, _**L**_. I was at the party, and I thought she looked fab. _

_And _**L**_ wasn't the only one who had fun with New York's newest most eligible bachelors. _**Bing**_ couldn't take his eyes off her sister,_** J**_. To the envy of the rest of us, B danced with _**J**_ most of the night and stared at her for the rest of it. If she wasn't so damn nice, we'd all have to hate her for it. _

_Sightings:_

**C**_ and_** L**_ taking the party to the _**Palace Hote**_l. Guess they needed some shots to dull the drama of the evening. _**Bing**_ putting _**J**_'s number into his _**iphone**_. Lucky girl. _**W**_ and _**Ca**_ making their way out to the limo. She was bitching about the party the whole time. Cheer up, darling. You haven't even seen our best yet. _**L**_ and _**K**_ making asses out of themselves. But what's new? You can't expect much out of freshmen. _

_You know you love me,_

_Gossip Girl_


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I do not own either of Jane Austen or Cecily von Ziegesar's genius, so please don't sue for my little fun.

**XOXOX**

Lizzie woke up with a pounding headache. As she cracked her eyes open, the bright morning light impaled her eyeballs. Dammit. She had neglected to close the curtains. Well, inebriation had made her forget. With a groan, she rolled over, throwing the blankets over her head, willing herself to pass back into that painless realm of sleep.

Nice try, sweetie.

"Oh! You're up!" It was Jane. Even Jane's soft tone was like a hacksaw right beside her ears. How her sister had inferred that Lizzie was awake while buried under blankest was beyond her, but nevertheless, Lizzie peeked out from under the covers begrudgingly. Had it been her mother, she certainly would have pretended to be asleep. But this was Jane, so Lizzie decided to be a bit gracious.

"Rough night?" Jane asked with a smile. Lizzie only groaned in response. She and Charlotte had taken the party to the Palace Hotel, and had drunk themselves into quite a state. While Charlotte had stumbled up to a hotel room with one of the guys they had met there and partied with, Lizzie had gotten a cab and struggled home, sober enough to pay the driver the correct amount and not trip on her heels. Once home, she had collapsed in bed, and immediately passed out. That said, Lizzie realized she was still wearing her black party dress from the evening before and it was now hopelessly crumpled. The way her legs itched told her she was still wearing her tights. Somehow, she had managed to get her shoes off. Dear God. It had been awhile since she had gotten under the influence quite that much.

But at least she hadn't slept with a random dude, like Charlotte. Lizzie wasn't going to call her best friend a slut, but the girl did get around.

"Talk about your night instead, Janie. I want to hear about Bing."

A warm smile blossomed on Jane's face. "He's perfect," she admitted, blushing slightly. "He's asked me to give him a tour around the city today."

"Oh my God, Jane!"

But even though Jane brushed off her response with an, "It's not a big deal," Lizzie couldn't mistake the happiness surrounding Jane's person. And, as was her nature, it was time to tease.

"He thinks you're GORGEOUS. He wants to _kiss_ you. He wants to huugggg you…"

A pillow suddenly hit her in the face. "Does Bing know how violent you are, Janie?"

"I never should have come in here," Jane replied, in a light, teasing way. "But I have to go…he's picking me up soon. Drink water. Take some ibuprofen. "

"Thanks, _MOM_…"

"Oh, and Lizzie."

"Hmm?"

"I heard about what Will Darcy said about you." From , perhaps? "You do know it isn't true, don't you?"

"Yeah, yeah, Janie."

"Alright. See you later."

"Have fun, Janie."

Lizzie listened as here sister left the room, settling back against her pillow. Of all things, Jane had to bring up Will Darcy. She was still smarting from his comment from the previous evening. How anyone could be so full of himself or herself was utterly beyond her. She was just pissing herself off, thinking about what he had said about her, and there was no sense in ruining a perfectly good day. She should probably go for a run to work off all the alcohol she'd consumed the night before, and then she had to prepare for whatever activities lay ahead in the day.

She wasn't going to waste her time thinking about some asshole with terrible manners. Will Darcy might think he was the cat's meow, but Lizzie forced him and his mean comments out of her mind. He was utterly beneath her.

She dragged herself from her far-too-comfortable bed, stripped off her clothes from the night before to hide the evidence of her misbehavior, slipped into a ruffled Juicy Couture robe, and tripped wearily downstairs to the kitchen. There, she found the remainder of her family at the table, polishing off what looked like a small feast.

"Nice of you to join us, Lizzie," Frannie remarked, a little sarcastically. It was best to just ignore her.

"Good morning," she replied instead, a little hoarsely, as she went to a cabinet to withdraw a glass to fill with water. Lydia was texting, ignoring her food before her, while Kitty looked guiltily at her own mostly empty plate. "What time is it, anyway?" Lizzie asked, pouring water from a pitcher into her crystal clear glass.

"Almost one," Noah answered, not quite looking up from his paper.

"Oh, God." Lizzie popped to Advil and washed them down with a hearty gulp. How had it gotten so late?

"Lizzie, have some lunch," Frannie ordered.

"Save me some? I need to go for a run first." Before Frannie could protest, Lizzie was out of the kitchen and back up the stairs, taking them two at a time. Once up there, Lizzie ripped off her robe, tossing it into one corner of the room before sending Charlotte a, "You alive?" text, and pulling on a pair of running shorts and a tank top. Rummaging under the bed, Lizzie located her running shoes, and slid them on.

A little _ding_ told Lizzie that Charlotte had texted her back. "Barely."

"Meet me at the park in 10?"

"Damn you. See you there."

Smirking to herself, Lizzie grabbed her iPod, and burst back downstairs and out the door of the Bennet penthouse, riding the elevator all the way down to the first floor.

"Later, Earl," she chirped at the doorman, as she passed by.

"I must say, you look much better today than you did last night, Ms. Bennet," Earl quipped in reply with his slow, ironic drawl.

"Thanks, Earl," she replied, shooting him a look, made far from intimidating by the grin growing on her face.

It took a few minutes to reach Central Park. Lizzie smiled at the leafy trees and green grass. It was lovely. She waited by the Turtle Pond for Charlotte.

Fifteen minutes late, Charlotte finally arrived, looking decidedly worse for the wear. There was still makeup caked under her eyes. Really? Had she looked in a mirror before she had come?

"Good morning, sunshine," Lizzie teased, knowing full well how annoyed Charlotte would be by her words.

"Shut the hell up. Let's just get this over with."

They had made a deal, way back when, that if they went out drinking, they had to exercise the day after. Besides, it allowed them to catch up with one another's nights. The run was slow going at first, but the two girls eventually got into their stride. During the run, Lizzie got to hear all about "Rolf" and Charlotte's night with him, right down to all the dirty details. Well, everything that Charlotte could remember, anyway.

"Lord, Lizzie. I literally bolted once I woke up next to him. I cannot believe I had sex with him. I definitely had beer goggles on. He was _fugly_." Oh, come on. Even fugly people need love!

They came to a stop as the run finished, leaving them the option only to part ways. Lizzie was relieved it was over; it had hurt like nobody's business. She wiped a bit of sweat off her brow as she eyed Charlotte.

"I tried to, Char. You would _not_ listen," Lizzie laughed, as they finished their run.

"Try harder next time," Charlotte said lightly, rolling her eyes. "See you later?"

"Probably. Bye, Char."

**XOXOX**

_Good Morning, Upper East Siders._

_ Hope you all had as much fun last night as I did. Even though I didn't manage to charm _**B**_ in the same way that_** J**_ did, I still managed to get a cute boy to buy me a drink or two, so I'm not doing so bad myself. And I didn't end up with a creepy stranger at a bar, like _**C**_, either. All in all, a very successful night._

_Speaking of _**B**_ and _**J**_, he's already asked her out. Did I not tell you that British boys are the best? They don't play stupid games like American ones. You know how boys think that they have to wait three days or something stupid before they call you? And how you stress out about whether or not they like you for what feels like a year? And how when the truth finally comes out, it's like, so anticlimactic? I'm so glad that _**B**_ is skipping that terrible step. Note to self: Find a British boy. I've already got my sights set on a _**W**_. _**J**_'s taking _**B**_ on a little tour of _**NYC**_, to get him better acquainted with his new home. Sounds romantic._

_ Stay tuned! I'll keep updating you on the juicy bits. _

_ Sightings: _**C**_ staggering out of an unknown hotel room. Don't worry, honey. We've all been there. Later, running with _**L**_ around _**Central Park**_. For such heavy drinkers, those two can sure be health nuts. _**J **_and _**B**_ going into _**the Met**_. _**W**_, also running in _**Central Park**_. Perhaps he and _**L**_ have more in common than he thought? _**Ly **_and_** K**_, coming out of a tanning salon, looking decidedly brown. Summer's only begun, girls. Take it easy. Skin cancer is not a hot look for anyone. _**Ca**_ making the most of living in _**New York**_ by shopping on _**Fifth Avenue**_. _

_XOXO,_

_Gossip Girl_

**XOXOX**

Lizzie had gotten home soon enough, and as she stripped off her sweaty running clothes, she checked her cell phone. A text from Charlotte. "_Guess what! He called me!_" Lizzie smiled down at the message. Well, who would have guessed it? A text from Gossip Girl was next. Lizzie rolled her eyes, but smiled when she read that most of the message contained bits about Bing and Jane. Next, a voicemail from an unknown number. Lizzie raised her eyebrows, feeling very curious. Punching in her password, the message began to play out in her ear.

"Lizzie, this is Bing." Bing? How had he gotten her number? "Um…listen. There's been a small accident. " Lizzie frowned. What was he talking about? She was beginning to feel a bit worried. "Uh…Jane hit her head…" WHAT? "…When she was getting out of the limo…I was a bit worried, so I brought her upstairs. She said she wanted you to come over…I assume you know where it is? Uh…well, I guess I'll see you in a bit then. Bye."

What the hell? Lizzie stared down at her cell phone, aghast. Jane had gotten hurt? Well, honestly, a bump on the head wasn't that big of a deal. And it wasn't as though Lizzie was a doctor. Why Jane wanted her there was beyond her, but she had to go. Frowning, Lizzie threw the rest of her clothing off, and hastily got into the shower, scrubbing of the grime of working out as quickly as possible. Bing had seemed urgent in his message.

Five minutes later, Lizzie felt properly clean, and was bounding into a set of jean shorts, a t-shirt, and her trusty Havaianas flip-flops. She neglected to do anything with her hair or face, but quickly hustled back downstairs, where her mother and father were relaxing in their living room.

"Headed out so soon again, Lizzie?" Noah queried, as he massaged his wife's feet.

"I'm going to Netherfield. Jane is there with Bing," Lizzie explained hastily.

"You're going like _that_?" Frannie asked, sweeping a critical eye over her daughter. Lizzie rolled her eyes.

"I have to go." And as she punched in the call button for the elevator, she heard her mother blabbering excitedly to her father that Jane was with Bing. Good Lord. She got downstairs as quickly as possible, ran out onto the street, hailed a cab, and instructed the driver to take her to Netherfield.

As always, the traffic in the city was atrocious. Caught in gridlocked traffic, Lizzie fidgeted in the back seat, intermittently fretting about Jane and wondering whether or not it might just make sense to get out of the cab and walk the last ten blocks to Netherfield. She reasoned that it would likely be quicker than sitting here for ages.

At long last, Lizzie elected to jump out of the cab and flip-flop her way all the way to Netherfield. Besides, she had to do something besides just sit there. Her worry for Jane was ripping at her nerves like sharks. "Thank you," she said, throwing some cash at the cab driver. "Keep the change!"

With that, Lizzie was bounding out of the car and onto the sidewalk, hastily making her way down the crowded sidewalks towards Netherfield. The building was just as she remembered – utterly exquisite. It towered above Fifth Avenue, with sparkling windows, glorious wrought iron, and creamy marble. As the doorman let her into the building, Lizzie admired the foyer, turning in a circle to observe it all. But she had to finish her business, to see if Jane was quite alright. She went up to the concierge's desk.

"Will you let Mr. Bingley know that Lizzie Bennet is here, please?"

The concierge looked her up and down, and decidedly unimpressed, rang up to the Netherfield penthouse. He seemed doubtful that a girl such as she would have any business with Charles Bingley. Indeed, he was considering calling security instead of Mr. Bingley. Against his better judgment, he had gone through with her request.

"Yes?" The metallically mutated voice of Bing came through across a speaker. The concierge glanced at Lizzie again, and turned up his nose.

"A Miss Bennet here to see you, sir."

"Oh! Wonderful. Do send her up, Frank."

Surprised, Frank turned to Lizzie. "The elevator is open for you. Obviously, push the button for the penthouse."

"Thanks so much," Lizzie replied, a bit tightly. What was it with people judging her looks lately? She was going to start feeling ugly if this kept up. She hastened to the elevator, punching in the button for the penthouse. As the doors closed, she caught the concierge giving her an incredulous look even still as he craned over his desk to look at her.

This was going to be quite an interesting adventure, no doubt about it.

**XOXOX**

Will Darcy hadn't wanted to wake up that morning.

Honestly, it would mean dealing with Caroline for another twenty-four hours. He could take her in small doses, say, hours at a time. But this was going on days, and would likely turn into weeks, and then into months.

Sure enough, once he had abandoned the refuge that was his room, Will had discovered that not only did he have to deal with Caroline, but he would also have to put up with her alone. Bing was out with Jane Bennet, a girl he had met at the benefit ball the night before.

That was just like Bing though. He was so trusting. It was irritating. Not only did it get his friend into trouble, but Will was also often the person who was forced to pick up the pieces. Bing was far too easily persuaded that he was in love. What the poor bloke failed to realize was that many of the girls that followed him around like baby ducks after their mother because of Bing's vast amounts of cash. It didn't hurt that Bing was exceedingly friendly, welcoming, and trusting to a fault.

As for Will, he had his doubts about Jane Bennet. She seemed nice enough, but Lord only knew her true intentions. Will had resolved to watch her closely. If at any instance he was able to doubt her affections for his friend, he was going to make Bing end it. He didn't wan the poor bloke getting hurt all over again.

So, when he had found Bing gone, and that he was left to entertain Caroline, Will had taken drastic measures to get out of the house. He escaped chiefly in the form of exercise. He had heard that Central Park made for a nice run. Sweating out his frustrations now would make him less irritable later, and therefore more enjoyable for everyone concerned. Of course, Caroline had pouted when he told her he was going out, but had resolved to do a little shopping as well.

Thus, for a good hour, Will was left in peace. He had gotten a good workout in, and had failed to notice the multitudes of women checking him out as he ran through the park. Unfortunately, he knew he had to be getting back. He hated being obligated. Will had made his way back to the Netherfield Penthouse, and had thankfully found that Caroline was not home yet either. A bloody miracle, that.

He had gotten cleaned up, and proceeded to answer some emails that were work-related, when Caroline had burst in and demanded that he allow her to model all her latest purchases – Prada sandals, a Dior silk dress, and a Dolce and Gabbana bikini. Will was no stranger to art. Indeed, he could appreciate the forms of Caroline's body. She wasn't a model for nothing. In fact, he might have enjoyed her little parade, except she demanded praise for every article of clothing, and he was loathe to give it.

Fortunately, her fashion show was interrupted by the arrival of Bing and Jane. Almost immediately, Will noticed something was wrong.

"Will you help me with her?" Bing grunted. He was supporting Jane's weight, having draped one of her arms over his shoulders, and encircling her waist with one of his.

"I'm fine, Bing!" Jane was protesting.

"What happened?" Caroline wanted to know, strutting across the room in her bikini and a pair of dazzling black Louboutins.

"She hit her head," Bing explained. "When she was getting out of the car. She needs a lie down, I think."

Will watched on in mild interest as Bing and Caroline put Jane in a guest room to rest. Once his companions had gotten back, he wondered aloud, "Are you sure she doesn't have a concussion or anything?"

Bing looked worried. "I think she's fine…she didn't hit it that hard…I think I'll call her sister." And his friend scuttled off, punching numbers into his Blackberry. Good Lord. It was still early, but Will had already decided he needed a drink. It was the only way to deal with this situation.

As he poured himself a glass of scotch, Will realized just what Bing had said. He was calling Lizzie Bennet. Embarrassment flooded him. As if he needed more of a reason to have a drink. He hated to think of her coming here. She had made it very clear that she had overheard what he had said about her. He regretted it. Obviously, she was perfectly fine looking. But he had had a bit to drink, and Caroline had been grating on his nerves.

Bing had returned, pacing around the room. "I had to leave a message for Lizzie," he muttered, frowning. Will cast a calculating look at his friend, and decided to pour another glass. Bing needed it just as much as he. Bing looked grateful for it, downing it in an instant.

"Relax, mate."

"I can't! Oh, this is all my fault." Bing wrung his hands in agitation.

"It was an accident. And she's going to be fine," Will found himself assuring, trying to keep a note of boredom out of his tone. "Why don't you go check on her?"

"That's a bloody good idea," Bing nodded, and nearly vanished on the spot.

Will sighed. Well, now back to his emails…

It wasn't long before Caroline had come out from wherever she was hiding, and, still in her bikini, plopped herself down in front of the television and turned on _Keeping Up With the Kardashians_. Lord knew he wasn't going to get any work done around here.

Just then, the butler entered the room. "A Miss Bennet is here," he announced. And in walked Lizzie Bennet, clad in an unexpected set of frayed jean shorts, a t-shirt, and some bright orange flip-flops. Her hair cascaded around her face in damp waves, and Will suddenly noticed he was staring stupidly. He jumped to his feet, feeling that it was probably rude to be sitting down.

"Lizzie," Caroline drawled from where she lounged on the sofa. "You got here fast."

The other girl merely smiled. "Ha, yeah, I walked."

Caroline immediately sat up from her reclining position. "_Walked_? The whole way?"

"Mostly. It's really not that far." Lizzie paused, and then got a strange twinkle in her eye. "You should try it sometime, Caroline."

Will had to look down to hide a smile as Caroline sniffed in what he knew was irritation. A silence fell over them all.

Lizzie was the first to break it. "I'm sorry…where is my sister?"

"She's in the guest room," Will found himself answering. A surprised Lizzie turned her eyes on him, and gave him a small smile.

"Thanks." And with that, she was gone, abandoning the luscious living room that Will and Caroline were in, leaving Will staring after her. Perhaps he had been very, very wrong about her looks the night before. Especially her eyes. He'd been so captivated by that mischievous look she'd gotten in them. Right there and then, Will decided that Lizzie Bennet had very fine eyes indeed.

From her place on the couch, Caroline was examining her fingernails, settling back into her lounging on the couch. "Did you see her highlights? Sooooo last season."

**XOXOX**

Reeling from her interaction with Caroline Bingley and Will Darcy, Lizzie wandered the glorious halls of Netherfield until she managed to locate the guest room that Jane was resting in. She hadn't been surprised at all at Caroline and her snarkiness. But Will had been somewhat….strange. He'd been just as quiet as the night before, but he had actually spoken quite cordially to her. And, she could almost swear that she had caught him smiling when she had suggested that Caroline actually walk somewhere that wasn't on a catwalk for once. Who knew that Will Darcy had a sense of humor?

She had felt self-conscious around him, especially considering last night's comments, but he hadn't made mention of it. Neither had he looked at her as if she was particularly distasteful. Thus, she decided to put it out of her mind. She had more important things to do than feel insecure, like tend to her sister.

Of course, the guest room at Netherfield was utterly lovely, shadowed only by her sister's angelic beauty. Lizzie smiled as she made her way into the room. Jane appeared to be asleep, her eyes hidden by her eyelids, but when a floorboard creaked under her flip-flop, Jane stirred.

"Lizzie," she had said softly, offering up a small smile in welcome.

"Jane." Lizzie went to the chair by her beside. "Are you alright?"

Jane laughed a little, shaking her head. "I'm so embarrassed. I'm perfectly fine. Just a headache, is all."

Lizzie raised an eyebrow. "So, what exactly were you doing in Bing's limo that warranted you hitting your head?"

"Lizzie!" Jane swatted at her. "Nothing like that!"

Lizzie smirked at her sister. "Do tell then."

"I had a bit of champagne," Jane admitted. "And I just got a bit light-headed. As I was stepping outside the limo, I managed to knock my head against the door frame." Jane shook her head. "Bing has been making such a fuss."

Lizzie smiled wryly. "I'm not sure who is more pleased at you being here. Mom, or Bing."

Jane smiled in what Lizzie imagined was a blissful way. Just then, a rap on the door alerted them to the presence of another, and Bing poked his head around the door. His face brightened as he realized that Jane was awake and doing alright.

'Thanks for taking care of Jane for me," Lizzie greeted him with a smile. "I'm sure she's better off here than at home. Our mother would make such a fuss."

"I'm happy to do it," Bing said, most charmingly. He paused, as if debating whether or not to add on. He did, with, "It's a pleasure to have her here."

HOW CUTE.

Lizzie almost laughed. It was quite a line, but Bing did seem genuine, and she knew Jane was probably blushing red at the statement. How sweet. "I'll leave you two alone, shall I?"

"Do stay for a while, Lizzie," Bing invited. "I think Will and Caroline are around here somewhere."

How could she resist? He was just too polite. "I'll go find them then." Great. What had she done that deserved punishing like this?

**XOXOX**

Caroline Bingley was a jealous person. She wasn't appreciating the fact that Will was paying more attention to his computer than her. Or that, when he managed to tear away his eyes from the glowing blue screen for a few seconds, they seemed to gravitate towards Lizzie Bennet. What was up with that? She didn't like that Lizzie's jean shorts looked pretty damn good, though she was almost certain they would look better on her. She didn't like that no one was paying her attention, for her brother was off tending to silly Jane, Will was on that blasted computer, and even Lizzie was flipping idly through a magazine, looking bored.

Her brother, Bing, as everyone called him, made an appearance. And what did he do? He began to play on his stupid Blackberry. And here Caroline was, in her bikini, and no one was even looking, let alone Will.

Thus, it was time for drastic measures. She climbed off the couch, and began to wander around the room, close to Will. If they wouldn't pay attention to her voluntarily, she would force them to.

"Will, how many emails do you have to write? I should think them so dull."

"Lucky for you, you don't have to write them, then," Will responded, not even glancing up. However, she did notice that Lizzie had turned from her magazine slightly, paying attention to their conversation. Caroline rolled her eyes. Poor girl. She probably wanted Will, just like every other. But she was going to make Will hers, end of story.

"Won't you tell your sister I said hello? I'm still dying over her little interior design sketches. She is quite talented, that girl. I wonder she has the time to do them, with all her prep work for university."

She ignored the slight sigh that Will huffed before he responded with, "I told her that you said hello yesterday. Don't you have her address?"

Before Caroline could respond, Bing was interrupting, finally glancing up from his stupid game on his phone. "Well, I find it amazing how accomplished young women are."

"Don't be sexist, Charles," Caroline snipped.

"I don't mean it like that," Bing hastily covered. "I just mean, it's remarkable how much work it takes to get into college these days. I mean, to get into a decent school, you practically have to speak ten languages to stand out from the rest of the applicants."

"Indeed," Will chimed in. "They do let people in far too easily."

Lizzie startled them all by tossing her magazine back onto the side table with a somewhat satisfying smack. "It seems like you think about it quite a bit," she said, a smirk twisting on her lips. "Have you ever considered opening your own university?"

How dare that girl? How DARE she mock Will? And so plainly? Caroline blistered from her place near Will.

And Will knew she was mocking him. But he still responded. "Well, with a younger sister I need to see into school, I obviously comprehend on it a great deal."

Caroline broke in. "Obviously, she needs to stand out from the crowd. Proficiency in music and dancing is always a plus."

Will regained the conversation by adding, "Georgie's studying French, German, and Italian. And, she must improve her mind through extensive reading – journals, newspapers, and that sort of thing. Only a truly accomplished woman will master all of that. I can only estimate as to having met five such women in my life." Will swelled proudly.

But there was that damn Lizzie Bennet, smarming and charming and teasing. "Five women? Really? I have a hard time believing you've met any woman like that. Certainly not in Manhattan."

"You're that harsh on your own gender?" Will asked, incredulously.

"In Manhattan, yes. Such a woman would be a terrifying thing to see, among the masses of trust fund divas and socialites running around with chihuahuas in their Birkins."

Only Bing laughed at her statement, and Caroline was aware she was losing Will's attention. It was time for desperate measures. "Lizzie, do come and walk with me." Will was paying an annoying amount of attention to that girl. What better way to diffuse than to show him how utterly superior her body was to Lizzie's? She was a model, for Christ's sake. How could Lizzie Bennet, makeup-less and in raggedy shorts possibly compare? Caroline knew her legs, toned and perfect, went on for miles, especially in her sexy heels. Her picture-perfect bone-structure and shockingly red hair completely outstripped Lizzie's plain-Jane, girl-next-door look. Glam had been in for years. Lame had never been.

Lizzie had complied with an unreadable expression, and Caroline linked her arm through Lizzie. It was awkward as they walked, as Caroline was quite a few inches taller. She smirked to herself.

"Will, won't you come and join us?"

"Decidedly not." Shot down, again. But she refused to give up.

"Why not?" she pouted.

"If I were to join you, I might be intruding on whatever gossip you two may be telling each other." He paused, and then eyed her with a smirk. "And besides, I can admire you far better from here."

Caroline nearly swooned on the spot. He had noticed! Oh, he had noticed her. Her, in her glorious bikini and magnificent heels, with her stunning body and far prettier face. And thus, Caroline deluded herself into believing that all her efforts had yielded some profit.

She was bursting with emotion and elation, but she wasn't just going to play into Will Darcy's hands like that (though she was certain they would be wonderful to fall into). Oh no. Any sensible girl knew that it was best to play hard to get. And so, she would.

"What a horrible thing to say," she goaded. And then, to Lizzie, "How shall we punish him for such a speech?"

With whips and chains, perhaps?

"We could always laugh at him," Lizzie suggested. Clearly, she had milder taste than Caroline.

"Oh no, Will is not to be laughed at," Caroline murmured. How could anyone laugh at a Sex God like that? Oh no, he was meant to be slathered in whip cream and…well, you know.

"Not to be laughed at?" Lizzie asked, incredulous. "What, would it damage your ego too much?" She laughed. "And would you consider pride a fault or a virtue, Will? Because we're doing our best to find fault with you."

As if one could find fault with Will Darcy. Caroline was too caught up in her naughty fantasies to bristle at the fact that Will was engaging in conversation with Lizzie.

"I couldn't say. All I can offer is that I find it hard to forgive the idiocy and depravity of others, and their offences against me. And once lost, my good opinion is lost forever," Will said, slightly serious.

"Ah. I can't tease you about that," Lizzie conceded, smiling at him in a most infuriating way. "How sad. I do love to laugh." How could she smile at him like that? Right in front of Caroline? The girl had no manners, whatsoever. But that was to be expected of Americans. Much more, Caroline hadn't understood a lick of what Will had said, but she understood that it was important, and here Lizzie Bennet was smiling at him. What a stupid girl.

"A family trait, I think," snipped Caroline, as she continued to prance around the room, beyond irritated.

The butler entered again, announcing, "Mrs. Bennet and her three daughters."

"Good Lord," Caroline huffed. "Are we to receive every Bennet in New York?" And she blustered off to her room to find something more appropriate to don, irritated beyond all belief.

**XOXOX**

_How's it going, Upper East Siders?_

_Gossip Girl here, with your afternoon deets. Are you all over your hangovers from last night yet? Hopefully so, because you are going to want to eat this up! And believe me, you're going to want to keep this down._

_**J**__ and __**B**__, stepping out of a gorgeous limo. J got a bump on the head, but I bet she won't mind if __**B**__ wants to play doctor for her. I know I wouldn't! __**L**__, going into the __**Netherfield **__building and pushing the button for the penthouse. Lucky girl! She was only wearing cutoffs and a t-shirt, but dang, she can work a natural look like none other. __**Ca**__ strutting her stuff in a teeny black bikini. Lord knows she isn't a model for anything. __**W **__writing emails, and looking bored, except when__** L**__ was talking. Ca was getting jealous, but hey, can you blame her? __**Ly**__, _**K**_, _**M**_, and _**F**_ making their way into the Netherfield building as well. Looks like this party is about to be crashed._

_You know you love me,_

_Gossip Girl_

**XOXOXOX**

What an extravaganza this was turning out to be, Lizzie decided.

Almost her entire family had crashed their little get together. Why they had decided they needed to come was utterly beyond Lizzie, but there you go. And how they had gotten Mary out of her room was yet another mystery. And yet, here she was, sitting on the edge of the couch and glaring off into space.

"Your decorator has done a phenomenal job, Charles," Frannie was blustering, running her hand over the rich fabric of the sofa arm. "Who on earth did you use? I must get her to do our apartment." She smiled around in what she imagined was a winning way, and then continued on, "I do hope you continue to stay here, Charles. Oh, we heard all about the little mishap with Janie and just had to rush over to see that she was all right. You've done such a wonderful job taking care of her!"

Bing seemed a bit overwhelmed by Frannie's monologue, but nevertheless performed like a champ as he responded. "I am enjoying the city, greatly. I find it extremely entertaining. Don't you, Will?" Bing asked, nearly begging his friend with his eyes and tone of voice to help him deal with Frannie. Lizzie watched in amusement as Will obliged, barely holding back an eye roll as he did.

"It's been alright so far." Well, he might be a good friend to Bing, but he was no conversationalist, Lizzie decided, beginning to smile. A desperate look from Bing forced him into further speech. "Although, I find it less preferable than London."

"Oh, not at all," Frannie protested loudly. "This is the busiest city on earth! You can't possibly find more entertainment crammed into any other city like New York." She paused to take a breath. "Have you been to the Met? Or gone to a play on Broadway? And our shopping is just exquisite. And while we don't have royalty," Frannie continued, joking, "the society here is also quite wonderful. We meet up with around 24 families on a regular basis, the most elite in all of New York. Perhaps you've heard of the Waldorfs? Or the Archibalds? Well, you met the Lucases last night. A very nice man, don't you think? And so humble, for a man of his rank."

Lydia thankfully broke in, with a huffy sigh. "Bing, is it true that you are holding a party here?"

Again, poor Bing was startled by the bluntness of the Bennet family. "A party?"

Lydia smiled, and flipped her hair over her shoulder. "It would be, like, a fantastic way to meet new friends." And to make it on the Gossip Girl radar. She paused. "Oh, and if you need people to invite, we know tons."

"Oh, please have a party!" blurted Kitty.

"God, Kitty!" Lizzie interjected. Was there no boundary to how much her family could embarrass themselves? She felt bad for poor Bing, put on the spot by her demanding sisters and mother. She half wanted to smack her head into her palm, or at least have a shot of vodka to numb it all.

Nice as ever, Bing graciously said, "As soon as Jane is feeling better, you can name the day."

A series of shrieks came from Lydia and Kitty, who immediately began texting everyone that they knew that Bing was holding a party and that _they_ were invited.

"I think a party is a stupid way to meet people," the until-now-silent Mary suddenly voiced, dryly. "It would be better if talking instead of drinking yourself into a stupor was how things went."

Good Lord.

"Yes, probably more efficient," Caroline replied, barely holding back her derision, "but rather less like a party." And seriously, not as much fun.

"Thank you, Mary," Lizzie said, with a sigh.

She nearly praised all that was holy when they finally left the penthouse, with Bing, Will, and Caroline accompanying them all the way down to the street. Lizzie wasn't all that surprised that Bing came down with them, but she was amazed that Will and Caroline had been motivated at all to go along as well.

Frannie was going on about Netherfield again. "What a fine, imposing place, to be sure." She was going to do her best to get into that place, no doubt about it. She climbed into the limousine, completely at ease and rather feeling like a glass of champagne.

Jane was exchanging her goodbyes. "Bye, Will. " He gave her a lackluster smile. She turned next to Bing, and thanked him from the bottom of her heart as he handed her in. "I don't know how to thank you for today."

"You're welcome anytime," he said, most genuinely, as she stepped into the car.

Awwww. How sweet!

Kitty and Lydia piled into the cab as well, still furiously texting, Mary following close behind, plugging her ear buds securely into her ears. Now only Lizzie had to enter, and plunge into a small space with her family for the next twenty minutes.

"Goodbye, Caroline. Thank you for your stimulating company," she said, concealing her sarcasm skillfully.

"The pleasure was all mine," Caroline sniffed, clearly read for this whole affair to be over.

She bid farewell to both Bing and Will, and made to climb into the car herself, but was surprised to find that Will was helping her in. Was this to make amends for his rude comments the night before? She was left in shock, staring after him as he nearly ran back into the Netherfield building, with Caroline at his heels.

What. The. HELL.

The car took off, with a shocked Lizzie and her sisters and mother inside. Things were certainly beginning to get interesting, there on the Upper East Side.

**XOXOX**

AN: Wooow, thanks to all my readers who reviewed! You guys are definitely motivating! You all are complete DOLLS. 33

How did you like hearing from Will's point of view? And Caroline's? Oh, Caroline is such a fun character. Gosh, she's so sad and hilarious. I can't wait to write more with her!

Oh, and my latest idea (if I ever finish this), a Gossip Girl style Jane Eyre. Wow, I should burn for reducing these gorgeous classics to this, but it's just so fun!

Next time, Lizzie meets Wickham (oooer!) and Collins (boooo), and an extravagant party in the Netherfield Penthouse goes DOWN. Hope you like it!


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